


Course Corrections

by yunmin



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Background Les Amis de l'ABC, Combeferre & Enjolras Platonic Life Partners, F/M, First Kiss, Gen, Grantaire & Éponine Thénardier Friendship, Illustrated, M/M, Protest Singers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-26 06:33:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1678283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yunmin/pseuds/yunmin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one notices when they turn up, the girl with the sleek dark hair and the boy with the dark curls. But the moment they open their mouths, everyone's eyes are on them. They have a knack for striking right at the heart of the problem, but tact is certainly not their strong point.</p><p>Five times protest singers Éponine and Grantaire interrupted a Les Amis event with a song, and one time they sing just for Enjolras.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Course Corrections

**Author's Note:**

> All the songs featured in this fic can be found in [this](http://open.spotify.com/user/yun-min/playlist/7b3I8FGWo1yrDOuMplc5O0) spotify playlist, there are also youtube videos linked throughout the fic.
> 
> Any and all lyric changes you may notice have been done intentionally. I make no claim on any of the lyrics and songs present within; furthermore many have been removed from their original contexts and are displayed in a way that may not represent the original writers intentions. If you have an issue with these songs, take it up with me and not them, thanks.

 

No one pays them much mind when they first appear. It's not the largest rally Les Amis have run, but there is a steady stream of people intrigued by what they have to say. In the midst of handing out leaflets, no one notices as a dark haired boy turns a bucket upside down just below the steps. The girl beside him garners a mite more attention; she stands out like a sore thumb in her leather jacket, tight jeans and copious amounts of jewellery.

But even she can’t hold anyone's attention for more than a moment. Not when Enjolras is in full flow. He can’t help but entrance those around him. Whoever he’s currently talking to looks unimpressed, but that doesn’t stop others around him from being enraptured.

Combeferre tears his gaze away from his friend for long enough to notice the girl with the long dark hair pull her lips into a smile. Her eyes flash with mischief. She's rocking on her feet as she nods her head to an imaginary beat. Her gaze is turned downwards as she sways, clapping in some sort of rhythm that Combeferre can't quite make out. The boy beside her is beating out the other half on the bucket.

He can barely hear when she begins to sing, a quiet but steady refrain of _am I?_ which the boy echoes. While no one’s turned to them yet, they’re making enough of a disturbance that Enjolras no longer holds the crowd's fixation.

The girl’s voice cuts clean through the crowd with [_c_ _ollide with faces veiled in paper_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iv1R6gK_LEM). Enjolras's head whips round as he tries to work out who's disturbed his rally.

He lands on the girl and her accompanying bucket drummer. They've quickly drawn the crowd's attention away from him.A set of calls and answers follows, the girl’s _so why_ echoed by the boy on the steps, and then they meld together singing _why am I the one to praise?_

The song seems to have little to do with the rally; Enjolras doesn't recognise it. But the performance of the piece seems to indicate that they are here for a reason.

Combeferre, on the other side of the plaza, is looking at the girl like he's never seen anything like her before. She’s sped up, speaking _calculate the Ponzi Pension to avoid_ , syllables falling fast to sing _unintended consequences of a choice._

She spits out the words _remind me in my western chamber what this plan's designed to save here_ with an amount of bitterness everyone is Les Amis can identify with. Anyone listening can tell that this song has its links to the Occupy movement, which was where they’d all started.

Her words _digging out of debt, sequestered, unemployed_ are strong. Courfeyrac’s filming the proceedings, knowing it’ll look good on the website.

She's now calling out _we are ever in the ninety nine, we are ever in the ninety_ nine, and a couple of other voices have joined her. Her voice is still clear even among everyone else's, possessing a harsh clear quality to it. The man beside her sings out her earlier refrain of _am I, am I, am I the one to praise?_ Her voice gives way to his, quieting so she can draw herself in for what everyone can tell is going to be a powerful last verse.

The boy is good. He doesn't have the same quality to his voice that she does. She's full of raw power and anger and bitterness, while he, he almost sounds world weary. They suit each other well, the contrast between them. He keeps singing even as the girl starts again.

Enjolras watches him, hands beating steadily on the bucket, as she calls out _I haven't come to say I'm sorry but I swear I'm on your side_.

They switch back to their echoing _we are ever in the ninety nine_ but even more voices join this time, Les Amis among them. She ducks her head even as everyone else continues. The beat goes on with the boy, bolstered by the sound of the crowd, as she picks up an instrument case. She disappears into the throng of people as he finishes up. Their impromptu audience bursts into applause, but she's already vanished. The boy has picked up his bucket and seems to plan on doing the same thing, but his eyes lock with Enjolras's as he stands up.

That's the first point at which Enjolras realises he's staring.

It's broken when a middle aged women asks beside him, “That was a very nice performance sir, was it part of the plan?” When he turns back to look for the boy again, he's vanished the same way the girl had.

-x-

The next time they see them, they are barely recognisable. No one expects them to show at an awareness event for the undiscussed half of the LGBTQA letter jumble. It's not a Les Amis event. They are there in a supporting capacity only, giving the stage over to those who have more involvement in the issue.

It's her dark eyes that Combeferre notices, as she weaves her way through the crowd. Her long hair has been pulled up under a cap; she's wearing a men's shirt with the sleeves rolled up. There's flecks of paint on the collar. He reckons it probably doesn't belong to her as the fit is awkward. It's too wide in the shoulders to suit her properly.

Having spotted her, Combeferre looks around for the other half of the act. Courfeyrac had posted the video on their webpage, and they'd received comments asking if R and Nina would have a repeat performance. The pair of them seem to have a sizeable online following, who desperately try to track their appearances. No one knew their real names or identities, just the aliases they used to refer to each other.

He doesn't find R until the heavy drumbeat starts echoing across the plaza. Just like the last time, he doesn't recognise the song. The crowd begins to quiet, letting the noise permeate through, the anticipation building for Nina's voice. There are people whispering to their friends, looking around for her. Combeferre, who has already found her, grins to himself.

[ _I'm a man_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5SMgK8IgXC0) her vicious cry rings out above the crowd, and she's easy to find then. If people hadn't halted when they heard R's drumming, they do so now. She belts out _i'm not an identity crisis_ and the crowd roars in appreciation as she tags on _this was planned._

Enjolras has found his way back to Combeferre's side as she continues into the second verse, proclaiming that _there's innocence in all of mankind_. Enjolras is clearly looking for the other half of the duo; he has no interest in Nina. Combeferre indulges him by pointing out R, at the far corner of the plaza. His hair has been tamed into smoother curls. He's wearing a sweater with a peter pan collar paired with lavender jeans, contributing to the gender ambiguity which is the flavour of the day.

They trade lines across _i'm a man's man, always been_ joining together for _make no mistake, i've invested in_. There's an energy thrumming through the crowd as Nina yells out _a woman's heart_ ; there's a magic to it. R's drumming suddenly halts. Nina's voice drops low, almost as a whisper as she sings _is the watermark, by which I measure_ and then he comes in again, joining her as their voices rise up in _everything._

She runs through the plaza, darting in and out of everyone as R continues the beat of the song. She elbows her way past Combeferre and Enjolras; the latter barely notices as he's too busy staring at her drummer. As she tears past Jehan she grabs his hand, dragging him along to climb the steps which are at the other end of the plaza.

They make a good pair, standing together. She's grabbed one of Jehan's flowers and threaded it into her button hole. She's breathlessly giddy, smile wide as she starts the verses again, exhaling an _i'm a man_. Jehan seems to have caught on, because he joins her in singing out _that's what you raised me to be._

Seeing as how this verse echoes the first, the crowd joins in. Nina just encourages it, waving her arms. She's smiling even as she bitterly spits out the words _i'm not your identity crisis._

Combeferre can hear R's rough, grasping low voice forming a quiet harmony to Nina and Jehan's voices. The two on the steps make an interesting contrast; Jehan's voice is much lighter, sweeter, what little they can hear of it. Nina's interested in projection, even at the expense of a more polished performance.

They both drop away, allowing Nina to sing out _if I'm dipshit drunk on the pink perfume, I am the man in the fucking moon_ and as she swears, Jehan pulls her cap off. Her dark hair swings free, and Jehan darts off the steps. She sweeps it from her face in one smooth motion; barely noticing it as she continues singing. Her performance ends with the lines _'cause you didn't know, what a man was, until I showed you._

She gives a quiet nod to the audience. Her hair's fallen into her face again. R continues drumming, and a lot of the crowd are continuing to clap along. Combeferre watches her, as she takes in the crowd; he suspects she's planning her exit. The thudding beat halts, and Enjolras grabs at Combeferre's sleeve, tearing his gaze away from Nina and onto R. “Go after him,” Combeferre tells his friend. R will be gone in a matter of seconds, and Combeferre flicks his gaze back to the steps.

It's too late. Nina's vanished, once again.

(They ask Jehan about why Nina picked him afterwards. He looks bemused; he wasn't there at the first rally they'd turned up at. “They're old friends,” he explains.

Combeferre asks if he has any plans to see them again soon. Jehan answers, “Well, I do have to give 'Ponine her hat back.” He tosses Nina's cap across to Combeferre. “You keep it, and then you've got an excuse to talk to her.”

“What about Enjolras?”

Jehan chuckles. Enjolras is hunched over the dining room table, scrawling out something long hand, while his laptop plays out tinny recordings of R and Nina’s performances. He hasn't admitted yet to anything going on, but it's plain as day for the rest of them to see. “Trust me,” Jehan says. “He's not going to need an excuse to talk to R.”)

-x-

They're sitting in the Musain, debating the nature of the latest climate change conference, when R and Nina make their next appearance.

R cuts in with “Honestly? You think that'll make a lick of difference?” forcing them all to turn around to see where the accusation came from.

He's sat at one of the tables in the corner. Nina sits beside him, watching the proceedings. She's rapping her nails against the table, tapping out a rhythm, with a smirk on her face. She's back in her leather jacket, wearing less jewellery than the first time they'd seen her.

“We can't continue raising a generation so ignorant to the damage that they're doing,” Enjolras bites back.

“Emissions aren't going down. Companies won't take responsibility, and governments are just enabling them. The EU rules on carbon emissions have just been skirted.”

Jehan smiles in the corner, arms folded, looking rather satisfied.

“Recycling rates are up globally.” Enjolras rifles through the papers in front of him, trying to find the statistic he knows is in there. Combeferre knows it, but he sits back. It’s more fun to watch Enjolras squirm.

“Yeah, but no one's on course to hit the Copenhagen agreements,” R says. “Speaking of, you got any plastic cups?” He aims this at the girl behind the bar, who nods.

Nina looks up. Her necklace jangles as she does so.

“You guys know the cup song?” Nina's eyes narrow at Courfeyrac, who poised the question. She turns her gaze back to R.

“Cuppenhagen?” She lifts an eyebrow.

“What else?” R takes one of the cups which have been provided. Nina takes another.

They're staring at each other. The room goes quiet in anticipation. Nina counts under her breath, a beat of one, two, three, four.

[ _Tap tap clap tap cup tap tap clap tap wrist cup tap_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T6pdJAUFSQg) they beat out. R's rhythm is steady and clear, while Nina's brow furrows in concentration.

She misses the beat with the cup as she starts singing _call out what we've become_. Without the need to project to so large a crowd her voice is sweeter. Her resident bitterness still seeps through as she sings _the news has turned to numb._

At this point she gives up with the cup, leaving R hold down the line of the song. He does so effortlessly, a quick flick of the cup as Nina sings _say we can't escape_.

She picks the cup up again as she sings the chorus line, tapping steadily on the base of the cup. With _in your head, where we're headed_ she starts quiet, but builds throughout the line. There's a fullness to the sound when R joins her in singing out _let me go_.

Combeferre turns his attention to Enjolras as Nina starts a second verse with _we lay it out on the map_. As usual, he's not watching Nina as everyone else does, but is instead focused on R. He's biting his lip in concentration, a habit Combeferre has tried to break him of many times, as he watches R's hands move swiftly up and down in the regular pattern.

Nina's voice, sweet throughout most of this song, takes back its biting harshness as she expels the words _in another town, settle up, settle down_ from her lips. She thuds her fists down on the table in a single blow as she sings _we insist on the option or we're out the door._

They lean into each other as they both sing out _gone, it's gone_. Nina's beating out an alternating rhythm with her cup and hand. She throws her head back and looks upwards as she sings _now let me go_ in a single breath.

R places his cup flat on the table. Nina turns to Les Amis for the first time in the song, an impish look in her eyes. _Or maybe this is a test?_ she sings at Enjolras, who looks confused at the attention. She turns to Combeferre next, smiling wide with the line _maybe this is a course correction._ She covers her mouth in mock surprise as she sings _oh, I said it, no no don't let it get out of control_. Her eyebrows are raised, her eyes are wide, and she'd look terrified if it wasn't for the smile on her face.

Nina returns to the chorus line, belting it out. She's picked up the cup again, concentrating so as to not miss the beat. R's singing something so low they can't make it out. They harmonise on _return again don't let me go_ and then with a final heavy drop of the cups and bowed heads, they finish.

The entire café gives them a round of applause. R and Nina look round in surprise, having forgotten about the other patrons. Both of them incline their heads in mock bows.

“Urgh applause.” Nina collapses onto the table once the patrons have turned back to their own business. “R, why did you think this was a good idea?”

“You had fun, shush,” R replies. “See my point?” He asks this to Enjolras.

“No,” Enjolras says bluntly. Combeferre grimaces.

“Does the power of song not move you?” R's grinning though, so Enjolras can't have made too bad an impression. “Not so much of an Apollo then after all.”

Nina groans beside him. “I'm leaving you to it,” she says. She slips from her chair, and Combeferre is surprised when she makes it over to him. She plops herself down on the sofa Combeferre's sitting on, sprawling herself over it. “I hear you have my cap.”

“Not with me.” Combeferre looks at her, her long limbs spread out over the arm of the sofa. She's no longer the imposing figure she cuts when she sings. “Sorry.”

“It's not a problem.” She waves a hand. “Urgh, it's sickening.” Combeferre is confused for a moment, but then tracks her gaze back to Enjolras and R. “Tell me, does R actually stand a hope in hell getting anywhere with that, cause I'd rather nip it in the bud if not. Although it may be too late for all that, if I hear one more song about golden hair and blue eyes I'm going to need a new back up partner.”

“He hasn't said anything,” Combeferre says, which is true. It neglects to mention the fact that Enjolras certainly seems fascinated by R.

Nina picks up on it. She leans into Combeferre so that when he turns back she's in his face, dark hair tickling at his shoulder. “And what he hasn't said?”

“It's Enjolras. He never says much.”

Nina flops back into the sofa. “Fuck,” she mutters. “I blame Jehan, can I blame Jehan for this? I refuse to take responsibility for any more of R's stupid decisions. Never should have attended one of your stupid rallies.” She looks Combeferre up and down. “On the other hand-” She cocks her head, taking him in. “I suppose there are some benefits.” She smiles at him. “Can I get your number? I do kind of need that cap back.”

Combeferre reaches for a pen, and Nina proffers her hand. She squirms as he writes the digits over her palm. “Excellent,” she chirps as she waits for it to dry. “Thank you very much my dear.” She pushes herself off the sofa. “R, we need to be going,” she calls out.

R looks up, jolted from his conversation with Enjolras by her voice. He makes apologies and leaps off his chair, brushing a hand over Enjolras's shoulder as he leaves.

“Wait,” Combeferre calls to Nina. “I don't even know your name.”

“Jehan didn't tell you?” She's at the door, turning back round with a smile. “I'm Éponine.”

-x-

The next public event Les Amis do is a general awareness campaign about the failings of sex education in schools. Combeferre takes the lead. Enjolras is too angry, too fiery to be effective in this arena. This is not the cause to go up in a blaze of fire. Combeferre is clinical and safe and non-threatening. He and Joly make the perfect team for this.

Éponine accompanies them. Combeferre's taught her the spiel they give to anyone who approaches them for information. He thinks it's good for her, to be in an environment where she is involved in discussion with the crowd rather than preaching at them. She thinks privately that he's probably right. Grantaire, as they know R as, is in the crowd somewhere, but he’s not an active participant. He and Enjolras have done nothing but argue in the few occasions they’ve been in the same room as each other.

Everything is going well until after a short presentation, Combeferre and Joly open up questions to the audience. A group of protesters have gathered off to the side, arguing against the positive advice which they are trying so hard to give. And they takes over the questioning. Initially Combeferre and Joly answer with ease and tact, deflecting what they don't wish to answer. But it gets harder and harder with the crowd getting worked up. The individual questions get lost in a wall of noise.

The clap someone starts up is lost to everyone not paying attention. It’s fast paced, heavy and hard. Éponine has approached their make shift stage and clambered up it. She takes in a deep breath and Combeferre steps back. [_My made up mind was not put here for you to try and change_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bpCSIBiEhws) she sings.

As always, she draws everyone's attention to her. When she sings _minding my own business til you criticised my friends_ she waves at Joly and Combeferre, who attempt to slink back into the shadows. Combeferre tries to seek Enjolras out in the crowd as Éponine continues into _it's on now time to go now let the heresy begin._

No one takes her warning of _and so I'm screaming_ seriously. The words _go away godboy_ erupt from her throat, right down at the lower end of her register. The entire crowd of protesters draws back from the violence of it. And then she pulls herself back to sing _your gospel doesn't work on me._ Even though her voice is softer, she still radiates the anger that powered through the first line of the chorus. She smiles wide to sing _you're stuck inside your holy head_ and even laughs as she follows it with _you think that you're in love_.

And then she drops off the make shift stage and starts heading for the protester to sing _so go away, you lamb of god_. Grantaire catches her though. She stops by his side to continue. Everyone around them backs off, turns away. Combeferre looks for each of the other members of Les Amis in the crowd. They need an exit strategy, and they're going to need one in the next few minutes.

If Éponine ever had a subtle bone in her body she's lost it now. Her jeer through the line _thanks for the invitation_ has to be audible to everyone. Grantaire's joined her, adding a backing vocal to harsh lines all while using his own body as an instrument in lieu of anything better. Éponine sings _better of a whore of babylon, baby_ with her consonants echoing throughout the square, causing quiet gasps. Combeferre grabs Joly's elbow and drags him off their makeshift stage to where Courf and Enjolras have gathered.

Her second cry of _go away godboy_ is no less guttural than her first. In fact, it is possibly more so. It's not just her; Grantaire yells it too, as does Jehan. Others seem to have been thinking about it. But those two know the cue, and that's all it takes.

 _Don't try to wrap your head around my heart full of free will_ Éponine sings. Combeferre spots Feuilly and Bahorel in the crowd; Bahorel anticipating the fight they all know is going to break out. Courfeyrac, Joly and Bossuet are slipping through the crowd, warning people to stay out of it; instructing others to leave. Marius and Cosette have already left to set up a safe place.

As Combeferre looks out over the crowd, he notices someone with a professional camera turned on Éponine. Enjolras has spotted it too. He moves to go after them but Combeferre clutches the back of his shirt to stop him.

 _Go find a willing flock of sheep and preach to it instead_ Éponine screams. The tension in the crowd is growing. Courf has pulled Jehan aside; Combeferre hopes he knows how long the song will last. Éponine is commanding the crowd's attention. They are under her spell until she stops, but her song cannot last forever.

 _At least that way you're occupied_ she sings, and then her voice drops low _and might not end up dead_ and she stops short. She takes a short sharp breath and spits out _and resurrected._ The protesters look scandalised.

It's not just Éponine and Grantaire yelling out _go away godboy_ this time. Various segments of the crowd pick it up, the ones who they haven't persuaded to leave. Her smile as she utters the words _now it's my turn to add a spin_ is wicked; dangerous and spiteful. No one expects the line _your holy head is up your ass_ to come out of her mouth. She grins with wild abandon. The part of the crowd on her side whoops and claps in appreciation.

The ferocity in her voice runs wild as she sings _or it's me and not your saviour that you'll fear_. Her eyes are dark; she looks terrifying. Combeferre, looking at her, recalls a post he'd seen describing her as a daughter of a wolf. In that moment, it's hard to disagree.

Grantaire joins her, pushing a wave of melody over the crowd. _Hail Mary, full of grace, save me from the human race_ are the words, but they are barely intelligible over the sound that builds. Grantaire takes up a second line on his own. Éponine darts from his side, climbing a table so she can ring out above the crowd.

 _Go away godboy_ she calls again. Her voice is grasping and gritty. _You're stuck inside your dogma and your karma's getting messy_ and she's still laughing. Up on the table, people can see her clearly for the first time. She repeats the line _holy head is up your ass_ and they are all grateful that she doesn't choose to accompany it with a gesture.

Jehan is waving wildly at anyone left in the crowd. Combeferre scans the crowd for the remaining members of Les Amis. Courfeyrac is with Jehan; Bahorel is standing beside Enjolras; Feuilly's grabbing a bag and is making a hasty exit. Joly, Bossuet and Musichetta left only moments ago.

 _Go away now little boy or it's girls and not your saviour that you'll-_ -

Combeferre can tell what's coming and so can the crowd, pulsing with tension. He pushes through to find Éponine, just as she sings her final line. _Go away godboy or it's me and not your savior that you'll fear._ She blows a kiss in the protesters direction. Her end note fades away, lacking the impact of the rest of the song. It confuses the crowd long enough for Combeferre to pull Éponine down from the table.

He grips tightly around her wrist. Her feet follow his out the crowd, just as they can feel people surge forward in anger. She doesn't say a word, stunned into silence.

-x-

Enjolras is furious. He’s fuming as they make it back to Marius and Cosette’s. Combeferre is seething too, but he runs cold compared to Enjolras’s fire. The footage has already found itself onto the news, and someone’s left it playing in the background. Joly’s pulled Bahorel aside to check his hands; he’d thrown a number of punches before he’d made it out.

“I thought protest singers tended to be peaceful?” Feuilly asks. The news has moved to footage of the riot that erupted after Éponine was pulled from the crowd.

Someone had tracked her exit. The newsreader is speaking; “This is not the first protest that The Friends of the ABC have been involved with that has ended in violence. Questions are rising about their involvement with protest singers known as R and Nina who started the riot, especially after ABC Vice-President Henry Combeferre was caught helping her make her escape.”

Combeferre catches it. “Shit. That’s not good.”

Éponine, lolling on the sofa, looks back at him. “Why, it’s hardly new?” Combeferre shakes his head. He’s preparing an answer; how he and Enjolras consistently avoid arrest because no one wants to martyr Enjolras and they trust that Combeferre is a restraining influence, and how this has blown all that. Éponine speaks up first. “Anyone seen Grantaire?”

Everyone answers in the negative. Éponine groans. “Fuck, he’ll have gotten himself into more trouble.”

“Let him,” Enjolras says. Éponine was leaving, but she spins back when she hears it. “All you two have done is stir up trouble. You’ve put Combeferre and the rest of the group under fire. Grantaire doesn’t even believe in any of the things we’re fighting for, and I doubt you do either.”

Éponine flies over to Enjolras, fists clenched. Combeferre catches her before she can land a blow. “You haven’t got a fucking clue what you’re talking about,” she wails. Combeferre grips her tightly.

“Éponine,” he says. There’s ice in his voice. Éponine drops; she’s never heard him like that before. “Go and find Grantaire.”

Éponine stares at him for a moment. The ends of her hair hit him in the face as she turns to stalk out the door.

“No one say anything,” Combeferre says, as several mouths drop open. He runs a hand through his hair. “Let’s… Let’s just try and get a handle on this, alright?”

They spend the next few weeks doing damage control. It’s everyone’s least favourite activity. Trying to get permission for their next protest also becomes a challenge. They’ve had the abortion rights protest planned for months now, timed to coincide with a vote on the subject. It's an issue that is closer to the hearts of Les Amis than most people suspect. They'd all seen the pain on Marius and Cosette's faces when medical complications had forced her to seek an abortion not twelve months before, and the abysmal way they'd both been treated for it.

Luckily, Cosette’s father steps in and argues with the chief of police for them. The chief of police has a soft spot where Cosette is concerned, although he won’t own up to it.

Éponine and Grantaire have dropped of the radar. She’s ignoring Combeferre’s calls. He knows Jehan is still in contact with them, but not even Courfeyrac can pry the details from him. Enjolras is moping, which is something no one thought possible. Combeferre would go as far to say he’s missing Grantaire.

They’re not expecting an appearance from them. They’d been some discussion of what R and Nina could sing in the first place. They’d drawn a blank. “What about the song from Greys? There’s an abortion clinic in that, right?” Courf had said. It seemed unlikely, but no one had a better suggestion.

Cosette draws to the end of her speech on stage. The audience is rapturous in their applause, and she blushes at the attention. As the applause dies down, they can hear a soft melody lilt its way through the square. It doesn’t take anyone long to work out who it is, but it takes them a moment to locate them.

Grantaire and Éponine are sitting atop the steps that lead into the square. He’s got a guitar, she’s just clapping. They’ve got an amp and microphone set up so the sound reaches down to the crowd. The members of Les Amis look to each other wondering if anyone knows the song.

Éponine drops the clap as she sings the opening line [_so far so good, you're coming to the bend at the end of the road._](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2t7rMT_BG-U) Her voice is calm and soft, none of the usual anger that permeates her words. R keeps playing, not daring to search the audience for his golden haired god who still doesn't understand.

She stays sweet for the first part of the song. Her voice swells to sing _the way Mt. Shasta explodes_ but draws back again for _into windshield view_. As R plays on, she taps her foot on the steps, waiting for her next cue.

She comes in with the second _so far so good_ stronger than she did the first. Every syllable of _coffee motel coffee diner coffee go on_ is enunciated with force.

She stands up as she sings _and you can't go back but you're going back._ She circles back to behind Grantaire, who joins her to sing _and you don't know what they'll say_. Éponine chucks the line _you've got half formed sentences_ out with a degree of nonchalance that doesn't really suit her. He chimes in with the next word _explanations_ , leaving her to complete the line _for a life that's broken away._

Up 'til now, the song has been a showcase for the lighter, sweeter side of Éponine's voice. But as they descend into _they'll take you in their arms and then take out your knives_ it gets edgier; her voice breaks near the end. She pulls it back in, uttering _so you drive on thinking_ with an ounce more composure.

She doesn't have any more time to collect herself as she launches into the next verse. Her words become long, drawn out, weariness present as she sings _but you can't go on much longer like this you know._ Éponine avoids everyone's eyes to sing _you're all alone in this world, but is that true?_

She looks at Grantaire briefly. This part is contentious, they both know it, and after what they’d done last time they were worried. There are a couple of shocked faces in reaction to the line _that's not what the nice christian lady told you so,_ but no one looks horrified _._ It’s a relief. They'd debated it back and forth, whether it was even a good idea, but had decided to leave the section largely intact.

Éponine draws herself in and becomes a different person as she utters the lines given; _Jesus knows what you've been through._ Combeferre, in the crowd, admires her restraint. It would be easy for her to make a mockery of it, but she sounds sincere. There's no way Éponine believes that _there's love waiting for the both of you_ , but she makes the crowd believe that she does.

The earnest truth fades as Éponine rips herself from the character, throwing herself back into the desperation of the narrator. She’s almost bitter as she sings _well you don't believe but you wanna believe_. But she's firmer and steadier as they move through. Her conviction shines through the line _you were the hero not the worst kind of coward back there_.

Grantaire joins her singing _can you stand the heat._ They chant the words _can you stand the thought of ghosts with a negative age_ to each other, not facing the crowd. Everyone’s watching them now.

There's relief in Éponine's last verses, a return to the irreverent joy of her starting verses. But even she draws the line at continuing the mood dissonance when she sings _and you're thinking did someone die that day?_ She stands still, concentrating; _were you the one who could not have planned_ is her next line and it's all on her. R's part here is simple. _But then again_ is given with a smile though, and they turn themselves back to the cheery mood of the song.

Éponine drops the microphone, preferring to rely on her natural projection for the lines of the refrain. _Calm calm, let it come, let it come back to you_ is taken up by the crowd, aided by Jehan who is out there somewhere. Éponine’s eyes find Combeferre in the crowd. His expression is guarded. She utters her final line _calm calm, breathe on out, you know you know what to do_ to him.

The audience claps. Éponine and Grantaire ignore them. She grabs the amp and he grabs his guitar and they leave as swiftly as they first appeared.

-x-

Éponine doesn’t expect Combeferre to turn up at her door. She opens it to him, and he’s smiling. “What are you doing here?” she asks.

“You haven’t seen?” Combeferre looks between her, Grantaire, and the open bottle of vodka on the table, and surmises that they probably haven’t. She shakes her head, but moves aside to let him in anyway.

“Yo, didn’t think we’d be hearing from you guys again.” Grantaire slurs over some of the words. He and Éponine had given it twenty-four hours before cracking open the alcohol in commiserations about the failures of their lives.

“Sorry,” Combeferre apologises. He looks for somewhere to sit down. He doesn’t find much; there are drawing materials scattered over almost every surface, clothes scattered over everywhere else. “We’ve been preoccupied.”

“Fuck.” Éponine pauses from moving crap off the sofa. “Please don’t tell me we made it worse for you guys.” She looks genuinely apologetic; the effect is ruined, somewhat, by the fact that she’s clutching a bra, underwear, and the most hideous jumper Combeferre has ever seen.

He rubs his hand over the back of his neck, averting his eyes. “No, no, nothing like that. The opposite, in fact.” Grantaire splutters from his seat. “Everyone loved it. It’s been making it’s way round everywhere. I thought you guys would have heard by now—” He looks at their blank faces. “You were amazing.”

He’s looking at Éponine when he says it. He’s looking at her like she’s the only girl in the world, like she’s not clutching dirty laundry whilst wearing smudged eyeliner and halfway to tipsy. He’s looking at her like she’s beautiful.

“And you call me sickening,” Grantaire mumbles. “Go, go and have your happy ending. Good on you two. Wonderful. Marvellous. I am overflowing with joy for you both.” He says this more to the air than to anyone else. “I doubt a miracle could get me mine.”

Éponine breaks her gaze from Combeferre as difficult as it is. “No more drinking,” she says. She snatches the bottle from the table and turns to Combeferre. “Dear, would you get a glass of water from the kitchen. You might need to wash up first. Just find something clean-ish.”

Combeferre decides not to question it. The kitchen is not as bad as he expected it to be, given the state of the rest of the flat. When he comes back to the living room, he finds it cleaner; there’s now space. He suspects they may have just shoved it somewhere out of sight. He hands the water to Grantaire, who takes it gladly. “So, can we see the footage?” Éponine asks.

They watch it curled together on the sofa. Éponine buries her head into the crook of Combeferre’s neck whilst Grantaire watches with fascination. There’s a surprising amount of footage of Enjolras - they blame Jehan for it - and his smile watching them perform is clear to see.

(Combeferre would describe Enjolras’s expression as ‘besotted’. Grantaire wears a rather similar one. Éponine terms them a ‘pair of dopey fucking idiots’.)

The thing is, Combeferre thought that might do it. The evidence is clear to everyone that the two have feelings for each other. But all they’ve done with that knowledge is stare when they think the other isn’t watching; the rest of their time is spent arguing. They don’t seem to be able to agree on anything.

And they don’t even seem to be happy with the state of affairs. For the first week, everyone had thought that maybe that they enjoyed the arguing, seeing how the sexual tension in the room was palpable. Éponine and Combeferre knew better. Enjolras is throwing himself into work with a passion Combeferre hasn’t seen since the last presidential election. Grantaire’s thrown himself into his art in the same way, though with the addition of an alcohol consumption no one thinks is healthy.

He wails along to trashy love songs, whilst Enjolras seems to have adopted a soundtrack of R and Nina’s songs everywhere he goes. Not that Combeferre doesn’t appreciate Éponine’s voice ringing through the apartment at all hours, but it seems ridiculous when they could have the real thing. Grantaire’s wailings soon take up presence in Enjolras’s playlists, and Éponine confesses to a bit of sneaky recording and slipping the tracks to Enj.

It takes some engineering on both Éponine and Combeferre’s parts, but Combeferre manages to convince Enjolras to accompany him to Éponine and Grantaire’s to collect a book he left there the other week. He lets himself in. Enjolras stands awkwardly just inside the door.

The calming sounds of a piano drift through the apartment, along with what might be a violin. Enjolras looks around for Combeferre, who has vanished into some crevice. Grantaire’s voice, low and soft, begins a quiet lilt of [_would you like the chance to shatter heaven?_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vNL93OWUPDs) Enjolras creeps further into the living room, trying to work out which room the song comes from. Éponine’s voice joins in harmony to sing _round and round and round we run_ , her voice clear above Grantaire’s.

Enjolras cautiously opens one of the doors. He’s rewarded with the sight of Grantaire and Éponine. Grantaire’s sat on the piano stool, Éponine perching beside him with a violin in her hands. Neither of them notice him come in, so involved are they with their song.

 _You’re making deals with minutes that will slip away_ Grantaire sings in reply to a line of Éponine’s. Their quietness, their control, stuns Enjolras. He knows that both of them have an incredibly diverse range, but they do have a tendency towards the brash. It was why Shasta was such a surprise. But this; this is a step removed from even that.

Éponine’s fingers tighten on her bow, sweeping it across strings. She leaves Grantaire the chorus line _is your armor thin again?_ And while Grantaire has his back to the door, Éponine doesn’t now, but she hasn’t said anything. There’s a break to Grantaire’s voice, ever so slight, as he sings the line _am I worthy to come in, do you want to be found?_

He channels his emotions into his fingers, hitting the keys whilst Éponine plays smoothly over the top of him. Her eyes meet Enjolras’s as she loosens her grip on the violin, and he fears she’s going to stop. Instead, she continues singing, a line of _nothing into something into nothing_ which Enjolras doesn’t understand, but he doesn’t think he’s meant to.

She gives way to Grantaire after the next line, the line _the words that I could never say_ fits him better anyway. He pours himself into the music as the chorus starts again. Enjolras has always favoured Grantaire’s voice to Eponine’s, but this is the first time he’s heard it so rich, so pure. The recordings Éponine’s been slipping him haven’t done him justice. Éponine hits the notes with the same power she does with her voice, as Grantaire swells throughout the chorus

She takes up the bridge _wandering between the girl you search for and the one you leave._ Her fingers fly fast over the neck of her violin as she takes up the main melody, her and Grantaire erupting into one of their brilliant harmonies.

She puts the violin down as Grantaire dampens the sound. She smiles. It takes Enjolras a moment to realise that Combeferre is now standing behind him, and another moment to stop from blurting out and interrupting the performance. Grantaire is still singing, shaking his head as he mutters _so near and far away from meaning anything to you._ Éponine builds as swell of noise behind him as he sings _but just remember if you’re jumping I would start my jump off running after you._

Oh.

Enjolras gasps softly. He hopes it’s lost in the chorus building again, but the press of Combeferre’s hand against his shoulder means he at least heard it.

He watches Grantaire with a fresh appreciation now; fingers which dance across the keys, thundering down as the chorus builds and builds, Éponine and Grantaire making a surprising amount of noise for just two people. He repeats the line _am I worthy to come in?_ over and over as a mantra. His fingers go slack on the piano to sing the last line, _do you want to be found?_ while Éponine holds a high note on her violin.

There are moments in which Enjolras knows he could turn and run if he wished; he doesn’t think Combeferre would be so cruel as to stop him doing that. But he doesn’t.

Grantaire stays with his back to Enjolras as Éponine places her violin down. She’s leaving when he turns around, sees Enjolras, and glares at Éponine accusatory. She sticks her tongue out back at him, grabs Combeferre’s hand, and prances off.

“You—” Grantaire starts. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.” Enjolras blinks, confused. “Not yet,” he clarifies. “Well, I don’t suppose ever if I had my way.”

“It was beautiful,” Enjolras blurts out.

That stops Grantaire dead. “What?”

“The song. It was beautiful. It’s always beautiful. I’ve never known someone who can sing like you,” Enjolras says.

Grantaire shakes his head. “Éponine’s better.” Enjolras, inspired in a sudden move of boldness, finds himself across the room and clasping as Grantaire’s hands.

“She’s not you,” he says. “No one’s you.” He thinks back to the deprecating words Grantaire had sung so earnestly. “You are worthy. You do mean something. I— Every meeting we have now, I find myself waiting for your interjections. They made it better, made me better.”

Grantaire runs a thumb over the back of Enjolras’s hand in an attempt to help process everything. “You like me,” he says, halfway between a statement and a question.

Enjolas smiles back, tightening his grip on Grantaire’s hands. “Yes,” he answers.

Grantaire wrangles one of his hands free. Enjolras is about to protest, but Grantaire places it on his jawline, cupping softly, reaching for a strand of Enjolras’s soft hair. “Can I kiss you?” he murmurs.

Enjolras nods in the affirmative.

When the two of them enter the kitchen later, they find Éponine and Combeferre sitting and smirking. “Stop looking smug,” Grantaire tells them, even as Combeferre raises an eyebrow at Enjolras.

“Just wait until Jehan hears,” Éponine’s eyes flash wild. “He’s the one who’s never going to let you hear the end of it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Playlist:  
> In the 99 by Vienna Teng  
> Man by Neko Case  
> Copenhagen by Vienna Teng  
> Go Away Godboy by SJ Tucker  
> Shasta by Vienna Teng  
> Your Armor by Charlotte Martin
> 
> Find me on tumblr [here](http://drinkupthesunrise.tumblr.com)
> 
> Bonus deleted scene can now be found [here](http://drinkupthesunrise.tumblr.com/post/87717561386/course-corrections-deleted-scene-part-of)


End file.
